


A Moment in Time

by Chamomile



Series: A Moment in Time [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-26
Updated: 2013-06-26
Packaged: 2017-12-16 05:10:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/858162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chamomile/pseuds/Chamomile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was strange…in all other cases, with anyone else, she would be calm. She knew that for a fact. But when she was with Merlwyb…that all changed. (Merlwyb, Kan-E-Senna, and the waltz that changed them.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Moment in Time

          Somehow she found herself sitting in a grand, ornate ballroom filled to the brim with Ul’dah’s elite. She’s still not quite sure how this happened, exactly. There was an invitation, perhaps…? Yes, that was it! It was a decorated invitation, stamped with the Sultana’s seal and the seal of Ul’dah.

          _“To the distinguished Elder Seedseer, Kan-E-Senna,_

_The Sultanate invites you to the royal celebration of Sultana Nanamo Ul Namo’s twentieth nameday. The pleasure of your company is requested on the twenty-fourth sun of the third Umbral Moon. Accommodations will be provided.”_

          …or something to that effect. That was almost a moon ago. And yet there she was, sitting at the edge of a table that seemed to stretch the whole head of the ballroom, with a lavish, half-finished meal in front of her. She was honored to be sitting there, at the table for the Sultana’s special guests. Truly, she was. But in this endless ballroom, with ceilings stretching higher than the towering trees of the Twelveswood and well-dressed nobles sipping at fine Vylbrand wine and dancing noble ballroom dances, she felt…out of place just sitting there, wearing her normal garb. Not to mention she was “gently persuaded” by the Sultansworn guards to leave her Claustrum in her room. She never did feel right without it.    

          An Elder Seedseer’s duty was to carry out the will of the Twelveswood and the elementals that inhabited it. Guilt rushed through her like adrenaline when she left the wood and took the airship to Ul’dah with one of her most trusted Serpent soldiers, leaving Brother E-Sumi and the two Archons to watch over in her stead. They insisted that it was all right for her to leave for a time--it was a wonderful opportunity to help strengthen the bond between the city-states, and, she added to herself, gods know she needed a break.

It was near four years since the Calamity. Four years since the rebuilding of Gridania began. Four years with barely any rest. That would try at anyone. She put on a calm, caring face to all Gridanians and allies—she truly felt a love for them all. But even then…there were times when even she couldn’t bear the weight of Gridania’s burden. Despite her immortality and the horns that marked it, she was still human. When she was alone, she still cried for the souls lost in the Calamity, or from the stress that guiding a city-state could bring.

She sometimes wondered if she was weak. But she constantly told herself that crying was not weakness, something her mother instilled in her at a very young age to the strong-willed Padjali girl.

She wondered how her comrades handled the same responsibility. Her eyes wandered to the sight of the crowd as she searched for the three who shared her burden.

Raubahn and the Sultana were always full of energy. Kan-E watched them happily converse with the other nobles, thinking how wonderful it would be if she had someone like the Sultana by her side. She was always grateful to her Serpent Commanders, but…they would never quite understand the emotions she faced daily. The two Ul’dahns were dressed in their best; Her Grace was adorned in the finest silks and jewels, and even Raubahn had worn his best armor for the occasion. Yes, Ul’dah was very lucky to have a pair like them.

Her mind wandered to Limsa Lominsa and its leader. Admiral Merlwyb…she admired that woman. Even after the destruction of the Calamity, the Admiral’s countenance was stronger than ever. Perhaps it was the Roegadyn blood that kept her dedicated.

They had spent much time together during the first three years. Admiral Merlwyb never hesitated to give Kan-E counsel when she asked for it. She visited Gridania and wrote often at first, asking about the city-state’s rebuilding and how Kan-E was faring. Not that the Bull of Ala Mhigo didn’t, of course—all three of them kept in contact with each other. But after the most trying of days, seeing a letter from the Admiral on her desk warmed her heart and made all of her fatigue fade away. Yet…over the course of the last year, those letters from the Admiral became shorter and less frequent, as did the visits. And, she thought, perhaps it was a good thing. For after a certain point in time, when the letters and visits were at a high, she began to wonder strange…things…about that Admiral. There were times when Merlwyb was all she could think about, and she would selfishly pray that the Roegadyn would visit again as soon as she had left.

But that was the past. Kan-E had long since buried those feelings in the back of her mind. They were…indecent, fleeting thoughts, based on pure instinct and emotion.

She hadn’t seen the other woman in nearly a year. Come to think of it, Kan-E wondered as her gaze went from one corner of the ballroom to another, where was—

“Announcing the arrival of Admiral Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn!” a Lalafell crier’s call echoed. All stopped their dancing and conversation and gave her applause, just as they had for Kan-E when she arrived.

Her heart may have skipped a beat.

Kan-E gazed upon the Admiral as a smile grew on her lips. That woman hadn’t changed a bit. She was still donning that same coat, even to a gathering as high-class as this. She had even brought that Storm Lieutenant with her—his description matched the one Merlwyb had given her of that “occasionally helpful” Lieutenant…she tried to remember the name…Guincum, perhaps?

She was cordially greeting everyone—the nobles, the sour Syndicate members, the Sultana, Raubahn…She always did have a way with words. Not that Kan-E didn’t. The Elder Seedseer was always happy to speak of the Order of the Twin Adder and the elementals and the Twelveswood. Just…it didn’t feel quite right to speak of it in a place like this, where merriment was the goal. She’d said her greetings and thanked the Sultana for letting her be a part of the celebration, but after that…her confidence wavered. There really wasn’t much else to speak of after the talk of politics and the like. She didn’t want to weigh her companions down with those heavy topics.

So there she sat. She wasn’t sure how long she had been just sitting there, but somehow, she enjoyed watching the celebration from the front of the ballroom, on the raised floor. Although…she would have to greet the Admiral eventually. The mere thought of it made her chest tight. Kan-E wasn’t sure how she’d react to the Admiral’s ‘hello’.

But, she reminded herself, this was not the time to bring up old wounds. It was a time to celebrate the Sultana, the very soul of Ul’dah. Despite the towering ceiling and the wide open space, there wasn’t really room for personal issues in that ballroom. And Kan-E preferred it that way.

The Elder Seedseer reflected on that thought and took a sip of her untouched Rolanberry wine as the crier announced the orchestra’s waltz suite in the Sultana’s honor. She grimaced at the sour taste of the wine, but would steel herself to swallow it out of good manners. Her eyes shut tightly as the sour, acidic taste ran down her throat. She’d hoped no one had seen such an impolite—

“Not enjoying the wine, Elder Seedseer?”

Kan-E’s eyes shot open at the sound of that voice. Of course it was Merlwyb. It _had_ to be Merlwyb.

“I—you—!” the words weren’t forming—or perhaps Kan-E was just too nervous to put together a coherent sentence as she pointed to the front of the ballroom, “Were you not just—?”           

“At the other side of the ballroom with Guincum?” the Admiral finished for the wordless Elder Seedseer, “Yes, but keep in mind, I’m rather quick with pleasantries. Not to mention, Guincum was nagging for permission to stuff himself at the buffet…No doubt he’ll proceed to get drunk and attempt to court as many noblewomen as he can while inebriated. I look forward to counting the bruises on his face tomorrow morning, of course.”

“…It is a pleasure to see you again, Admiral,” Kan-E slightly bowed her head in greeting, trying to stay as formal as possible. There was a tiny voice in the back of her head, whispering to just let everything go and admit everything to the Roegadyn. But she was stronger than that. She wouldn’t dare. Not here. Not now.

“The pleasure is all mine, Elder Seedseer,” the Admiral smirked—but in a mere moment it transformed into an almost…forlorn smile as she looked to the crowd, “It has been…quite some time.”

“Yes…it has,” Kan-E looked to the same crowd, laughing and enjoying themselves as they all waltzed around the dance floor. Even Raubahn and the Sultana were waltzing together—though Raubahn seemed like he was having a bit of back pain from bending down to reach the tiny Sultana’s grasp.

There was silence. Kan-E had no words. Or, rather, none that would fit an occasion such as this. It was very much like Merlwyb to be the one to break the silence.

“…I come here today with a proposal for you, Elder Seedseer,” she’d said in a level, quiet tone, still gazing at the waltzing nobles.

“A proposal?” Kan-E repeated seriously, intrigued, “Of what kind?”

Merlwyb opened her mouth to speak, but paused as the orchestra stopped. It quickly began anew, though, with an even grander waltz—that was when she offered her hand.

“May I have this dance?”

Kan-E’s eyes widened. Blood rushed to her face. She looked to the eyes of her ally; there was a kindness, a gentleness in them that the Padjal had rarely seen. That tiny voice from earlier seemed to grow louder from that offer…but she took a deep breath and mentally muffled it once again.

“I…would like to,” Kan-E looked away, embarrassed, “…Though I’m afraid I cannot fulfill your request.”

“And why is that?” the Admiral asked, raising an eyebrow. She probably knew why—she _had_ to have known! So…why was she asking that?!

“I, ah…” she started to say it—tried to say it—but the words weren’t coming out, “I never…quite…”

There was some incoherent mumbling afterwards. Merlwyb didn’t need to hear it all to understand, however…perhaps that was one of the reasons why Kan-E liked her so much.

“As long as one is willing to learn,” the Admiral smiled, “I will teach.”

The Padjal looked up at her again, surprised—that smile was unchanging.

“Now, then, will you or will you not?”

Carefully, and somewhat shocked, the Padjal placed her tiny hand in the Roegadyn’s care.

“I…would be honored to learn from you,” Kan-E returned the smile, “If you would have me.”  

“Of course,” Merlwyb nodded as her dance partner rose from her seat. She gently held the other woman’s hand and led her to a vacant spot on the dance floor. Kan-E could feel the confused gazes of the other partygoers on the way, but…for some reason, she cared little of it. Her heartbeat sped up as they stood there together, and she nearly jumped when Merlwyb’s hand pressed against her back.

“Your left hand,” Merlwyb explained, “Will go in my right.”

She followed the instructions as given.

“Your right hand,” the Admiral continued, “Goes on the back of my shoulder.”

“…Is that all right?” Kan-E asked, surprised.

“Would I be explaining it to you if it wasn’t?”

Kan-E smiled a bit and again followed her instructions.

“Now, I’ll be taking a step forward on the left,” Merlwyb began again, “You do the opposite by taking a step back on the right. It’s quite simple afterwards—As I move, you do the opposite. If you so choose, you can count to three as we take those steps. I take it you would prefer me to start out slow?”

“I-If you would,” Kan-E nodded slightly; adrenaline rushed through her as their dance began—albeit very slowly. She looked to their feet and watched Merlwyb’s every move with an intense focus, trying to do the opposite each step of the way and slowly counting to three, over and over, as per the suggestion. After a minute or two of that, Merlwyb began again with her guidance.

“A little faster now,” she closed the distance between them and whispered, “try doing the same thing…only this time, I’d like you to look at me rather than the floor.”

“Are you certain…?” the Padjal’s eyes widened, “I’m afraid I might—”

“Failure teaches success. Should you make a mistake, I will lead you in the right direction.”

“…As you wish,” Kan-E gave a confident nod and readied herself for the new pace, staring intensely into her partner’s eyes, as if she were ready to face some kind of Garlean threat.

Slowly, gradually, Merlwyb picked up the pace, and Kan-E’s counting became faster and faster…and she could feel her gaze intensifying as she focused more on her steps. Fortunately, the Admiral was surprisingly amused with it.

“You don’t have to look so serious,” Merlwyb smirked, “It’s not a battle to be w—ah.”

She had stepped on Merlwyb’s foot while trying to pay attention to what she was saying…It was difficult to think about the steps, count to three, and listen to your partner at the same time…while Merlwyb didn’t think it was a battle to be won, in Kan-E’s case, it _was_ , in a sense. She _would_ defeat this inability to dance…with Merlwyb’s help, of course.

“I-I apologize,” she quickly murmured, focusing again on the dance and feeling her heart nearly jump out of her chest. But Merlwyb gave a kind nod as if to say she understood and continued on at the same pace.

This pattern seemed to go on for a while. In time, Kan-E had memorized the movements. Her body moved in reaction to her partner’s without thinking. And slowly…she could feel her expression go from serious to relaxed. She was still counting frantically in her head. But at least on the outside, she looked like she knew what she was doing.  

It was strange…in all other cases, with anyone else, she would be calm. She knew that for a fact. But when she was with Merlwyb…that all changed. She felt as though she knew nothing, that no time had passed since they saw each other last, and every emotion, every _sense_ became stronger. It was as if Merlwyb was staring right into the brave façade of a leader and exposing what Kan-E really was at heart—just a strong-willed (and somewhat anxious) young woman.

Silently they continued, content with each other’s movements and dancing along with the rhythm of the orchestra.  There was a rush of emotion in Kan-E when they had finally mastered it together, and the dance just came naturally without a need to count. The Padjal, silently overjoyed, looked into her partner’s eyes and gave a gentle, thankful smile—she was relieved to see that Merlwyb returned it with a matter-of-fact, almost proud, grin.

But, as they both knew, all good things must come to an end, and as the grand waltz’s last, brilliant echoes faded, they, too, ended their dance…

Little did they know, however, the entirety of Ul’dah’s elite (and a rather tipsy Guincum), had cut their waltzes short to watch the spectacle, and let out a grand applause when the couple had stopped.

“Bwahaha! Bravo!” Raubahn let out a hearty laugh, watching his allies look to the spectators in surprise as they separated.

“Well done, well done!” the Sultana cheered from her vantage point on Raubahn’s trusty shoulder.

It was…strange. Kan-E had been applauded before by many a-crowd, but this was…by far, the most exhilarating applause she had ever received. Perhaps because she had overcome an obstacle in the process. Perhaps because she and Merlwyb earned it together. They looked to each other, both satisfied, and nodded, giving a slight bow to the crowd in appreciation.

Just as quickly as the crowd had formed, however, it had faded back into a mesh of nobles of all races, dancing and making merry—but neither of the pair was disappointed. They had never even expected to get any applause at all!

Kan-E’s hand was still held tight in Merlwyb’s, and when it seemed like everyone had gone back to their own affairs, she expressed her thanks to the Admiral, unable to stop smiling.

“Thank you very much, Admiral,” she unknowingly tightened her grip on her partner’s hand, “You are a truly wonderful teacher…”     

“It was my pleasure,” the Roegadyn replied as if it were nothing. That was all well and good.

It was when she raised Kan-E’s hand and gently kissed it that the Elder Seedseer froze.

There was a rush of emotion as the small warmth pressed against the back of her hand…Unadulterated, pure _emotion_ , so much so that her entire body grew numb with it. The once tiny voice that nagged at her and pulled at her calm façade grew too loud—she couldn’t hide it anymore; that simple action had been the straw to break the chocobo’s back. She tried to control it. Gods, she tried. She tried to think of everything, anything but the Admiral, who still had not let go of her hand. But a feverish heat spread across Kan-E’s face, and a lump formed in her throat.

Those feelings fought against her all at once in a twisted battle of attrition. And, just as Kan-E had feared…they had won.

A tear ran down Kan-E’s cheek. Maybe two. Maybe more. She doesn’t remember. All of that was a blur. But she did know that Merlwyb was there to see it all. And she saw the terrible look of pity on the Admiral’s face…yes, pity. That was…probably all it ever was.

“I was…very happy to learn from you,” Kan-E smiled through the pain, something she learned to do quite well…but that just seemed to make the tears flow more freely, to her disappointment.  

“Why…?” she murmured to the Admiral in a quiet sob, but shook her head and tried to grope at the little calm she had left, “My apologies, Admiral…I…it was never my intention to—”

But Kan-E stopped immediately when Merlwyb let go of the hand she was holding and put it on the Padjal’s cheek, moving her thumb below her eye to wipe away at the stray tears. She looked up in shock as the Admiral’s face of pity turned to a small, sad smile.

“Come,” the Admiral began in that same, quiet tone, “It’s time we had a talk.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------

Merlwyb had escorted Kan-E out of the ballroom, telling the Sultana and Raubahn that Kan-E had forgotten something, but wasn’t quite sure about the layout of the palace, and the Admiral insisted on going with her so she didn’t get lost. Her Grace was oddly appreciative of this, and agreed that it was an “excellent idea” for the Admiral to go with Kan-E.

And that’s what brought them there, to some lonely bench in a lonely hall of the palace, far from the noise of the orchestra and the pomp of the nobles and well-to-do folk. Kan-E had managed to stay calm on the outside, but her heart felt as if it would jump right out of her chest, for the Admiral refused to let go of her hand, even when they found this little place. A tear or two managed to roll down Kan-E’s cheek on the way there, but she managed to control it a little better as they sat themselves down.

Neither said a word at first. Merlwyb stared with glazed eyes at the other side of the hall, as if it had some kind of secret to tell. Kan-E looked to the taller woman and felt some kind of peace, just watching her. Even with those wistful eyes, she looked…beautiful, in a way. But she put that thought aside, insisting it was selfish of her to think that when the Admiral might be in some kind of pain.

After a few moments, Merlwyb finally closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and spoke.

“…I should be the one to apologize,” she sighed, slowly—almost fearfully—turning her gaze back to the speechless Padjal, who could only tighten her grip on Merlwyb’s hand as a response.

“I did not come to Ul’dah with just the Sultana in mind,” she began, “That, I owe to you.”

“…Admiral?” a look of surprise from the Elder Seedseer.

“I had hoped you would be here—and as Nymeia would have it, you were. I am…glad, for that. Tell me, Kan-E-Senna, what is it you felt when you saw me here?”

Blood rushed to her cheeks as she heard the Admiral address her by name. But she answered nonetheless.

“…I was confused,” she replied, reluctant to continue, “And perhaps…ill at ease, when you entered. A strange mix of happiness and fear, when I saw you again after a year’s time. Yet...I was wrong to think those feelings would fade with time. If anything, they were stronger than they ever were…It is a terrible thing—I never should have felt like that in the first place. It was…wrong of me.”

“…So I was not alone in that feeling,” a smile crossed Merlwyb’s lips as she gazed into brilliant green eyes, “But do I regret it? Never. Nor do I think it wrong. For as long as I live, I would not dare regret time spent with you.”

As she spoke those words, something swelled in Kan-E’s heart. Each word was like a knife cutting through, and the only reaction to that kind of pain…was tears. But here…crying in front of Merlwyb…for some reason, after what the Admiral had just said, she didn’t mind crying in front of her anymore.

“Then…I must speak honestly, Adm—”

“Merlwyb,” she was corrected.

“—Merlwyb,” a chill ran down Kan-E’s spine as that name passed her lips, “I…do not regret that time, either. What I regret…is not being able to meet with you sooner. Though, at the same time…I was too apprehensive to take action.”

“That…is my fault,” the Roegadyn admitted, “I visited you and wrote you with the intention of simply giving you my support…but, somehow, it became something far more complicated than that. I did not wish for it to affect you as it did me, but…it seems that backfired.”

“Admira— _Merlwyb_ ,” Kan-E spoke strongly, confidently, staring into those starlight grey eyes, “You did more than just give me support…perhaps, in a way…you saved me from myself. I wish…I could repay you for what you’ve done.”

“Funny,” the Admiral gave her trademark smirk, putting her other hand on Kan-E’s cheek, “I was about to say the same to you.”

Kan-E would have responded to that with equal joy. But before she could, her vision naturally went dark as the Admiral’s— _Merlwyb’s_ presence inched closer, and something soft brushed against her lips. And in that very moment, time may have just stopped for the both of them. It was their moment in time—a Twelve-given minute or two that belonged to _them_. And neither would forget that.

They parted after what seemed like ages, and Kan-E surprised herself when she was the first to speak.

“…Merlwyb,” she whispered softly to the other, looking down out of embarrassment and the blush that came with it, “I believe…I’ve fallen in love with you.”    

“I have done just the same, Kan-E,” Merlwyb murmured back, and closed the distance between them again for another kiss, and another, until they ran out of breath.

“I wonder,” Merlwyb slyly whispered between kisses, “Would you be prepared to repay me tonight?”

Kan-E’s entire face flushed. But she certainly wasn’t opposed to the idea at all.

“…I would,” she smiled. And with that, she and the Admiral stood up from the bench and walked away arm-in-arm, disappearing into the halls of the palace.

\--------------------------------

_6/24 - 6/25 PALACE GUARD REPORT_

_-At three bells past midnight, the Elder Seedseer was MIA, and did not return to her room._

_-At nine bells in the morning, the Elder Seedseer was spotted exiting the Admiral’s chambers, rather disheveled and with her hair down. We were unsure of the cause and preferred not to ask._

“I suppose that’s been all sorted up, now, hasn’t it?” Nanamo smiled, satisfied after perusing the report’s contents, “I’m glad to hear it. Though I’m sure your Alliance meetings will be much more interesting…you _must_ tell me how the next one goes!”

“…And keep in mind that when I do, Your Grace, that this was all _your_ doing,” Raubahn furrowed his brow, unsure of what else to say.

“I wonder about that,” she said, looking to her Flame General.

Raubahn quickly changed the subject.


End file.
